


Tape Recorder

by Gozufucker



Category: Fate/Apocrypha, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Dad - Freeform, Fatherly relationship - Freeform, Gen, Gore, Just. General gore, Kinda spoilers for shishigou's backstory, Nightmare, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Mordred, Some headcanon regarding the association, This probably happens before Apocrypha's final stretch, eye gore, i dunno what to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 11:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14591721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gozufucker/pseuds/Gozufucker
Summary: It's just general procedure, even with its nightmarish qualities.





	Tape Recorder

The recorder's placed on the surgical table before it's turned on, Shishigou's eyes staring at it to make sure the tape inside is moving before starting, those cold eyes shifting onto the subject laying on the table. He's covered up all the unimportant parts for this operation. Everything below the waist and everything above the neck has been covered with a white sheet, although he's got suspicions that they'll stain eventually.

"Recording start. Shishigou Kairi, the date is... Bah. Unimportant right now. I'll be going through the recent incident relating to the failed transfer of my magic crest to determine what exactly went wrong. This report will be sent to the Mages Association as both a report and as a request for help in faking a proper cause of death for the government records."

His voice was a bit hoarse, reaching for a bottle of whiskey he kept close to the surgical table. He took a swig and sighed. This was going to be the second bottle today, but somehow he felt more sober and clearer than he ever had before in his life. Maybe her death had sobered him up completely, coughing loudly to himself to break out of this trance before it even begun.

"I'll make the first cut."

Normally recording these things was obsolete. Most Magi simply wrote down their reports and mailed them off in case one of their human experiments went and died. They were somewhat frowned upon, but by no means illegal. Necromancers made their bread and butter through experimenting with the body parts of others, especially their neighbors or in cruel cases, their unnecessary spawn. These reports were then looked over by some bureaucrat in the Association before being mailed back with some proper documents that gave a cause of death that'd fit in with the normal person's view of this world.

Her skin felt hard as steel, but he made the surgical cut anyhow and begun to carefully dig through her insides in search of any irregularities. He'd gone through the guts of so many corpses that he could instantly notice whenever something was wrong with them, but he simply couldn't find anything. No odd traces of mana, no obvious mishaps like rotten lungs or a heart that'd begun to pump blood so fast it exploded.

"I've made six cuts. No noticeable traces of mana in the subjects system. I attempted to transfer the magic crest to cover her stomach area, but there are no traces of it here. During the ritual itself, the crest disappeared for a brief moment before then returning to me when the subject terminated."

He remembers her face of agony and pain. She was a beautiful, clever girl. Some distant relative his father had found in an attempt to trick the devil. Dumbass. His father was a fucking dumbass. Why try and trick the devil after making a deal with them? If he'd just accepted the fact that the Shishigou family would end with Kairi, this could've been avoided. She could've been healthy and happy. He could've taken her to more places. Maybe given her a good education as a magus unrelated to their craft.

"As it stands, after eight cuts, I can't determine anything wrong with the vitals of the subject. The next step will be to inspect the brain of the subject and determine if the crest somehow meddled with its functions."

He placed the scalpel down and paused the recording for a moment, crashing down to sit on the floor for a moment. Sweat bubbled on Shishigou's forehead as he thought about the next step. He had to remove the cloth covering her face and start to cut open her head. He'd have to look his sweet daughter in the eye while he mutilated her for the mistake he made.

He couldn't do it. 

But he had to. The recording is allowed to continue.

"I'll seal the cuts I've made along the subjects chest and stomach before moving onto the head." 

That much was easy to do. All he had to do was speak a few words and wave his hand the wounds begin to sew themselves together until it looked as if she was completely untouched, ready and prepared for the funeral ahead of her. If only bringing her back was as easy. Yet, ironically, being a necromancer did nothing for him in terms of bringing the dead back. What a shitty craft he specialized in.

"The chest has been healed and covered. I'll uncover the head."

And so, the recording was paused again as he grabbed the bottle and took a large swig, the contents of it burning his throat to a point where he felt as if he'd gone to hell early. Yet it could not make him drunk no matter how hard he tried. Seems like the devil liked to play with him a little and make him suffer for his mistakes clear-headed.

His hand laid on the sheet covering her face. At least he could see her peaceful face again. At least, even if she died in a short burst of agony, he could see her being calm while he went about with his work. He felt tempted to simply fake the report and say he examined the brain, but he knew he had no right to be a coward. His fingers gripped the sheet, and...

"Oi."

A strong hand grabbed his by the wrist. The skin was a little more than hers, and the grip was definitely much stronger. Her touch had always been so weak, in a pleasant way. This one was strong and it burned his skin to a point where it became charred black, red lightning crackling around his hand as three red marks began to form on the back of his hand, forming the shape of a skull.

And that voice belonged to -

"What the hell are you doing, Master?"

The strong hand removed the sheet all by itself, revealing them. Saber of Red. Mordred Pendragon, the bastard of King Arthur, laying there on the surgical table. Mordred's bright green eyes stared up to him while their grip simply did not ease at all, face neutral until they spoke up once more. They didn't sound cocky or violent like usual. They sounded sad.

"I guess this is just going to be how my life goes, huh. Always laying down, watching someone I considered important gut me like a damn fish."

His hand shook despite being free from their grip, the command seals burning his flesh quite literally. He felt like he was catching on fire, a voice echoing from the back of his head. It was definitely his voice, even if his lips did not move at all. And what that voice said terrified him to no end, wishing he could cut his head off right then and there to stop it.

_"Saber of Red, with this command seal I order you to rip out your own eyes."_

The order was followed in a quick, brutal fashion. Their hands dove right to their face, fingers growing sharp nails in an instant as a horrific, guttural sound echoed in the surgery room while they removed their eyes without a sound of pain, blood splattering out only to drip down onto the table and from there to the floor, a large puddle already formed around their head by the time the sockets are empty, the eyeballs held in their palms for a moment before being crushed into paste, the splatter hitting his face. They spoke again, still sad.

"I wanted to take some of her responsibilities away. I wanted to make sure my father could rest. That my father wouldn't sit on their throne alone, without anyone understanding her. Is that so wrong?"

He tried to speak, but the voice interrupted again as another seal burned off.

_"Saber of Red, with this command seal I order you to tear out your own guts."_

The blood already flied to his face by the time he managed to grab their wrist, only to be dragged along with it as he almost fell down face first into the carnage HE created. He could only watch in horror as Mordred cut through their own stomach and into their entrails with their bare claws, red lightning crackling out of their body as mana begun to explosively remove itself thanks to all the damage. He saw lungs, he saw a heart, and he saw so many veins he felt his own almost burst. By the time they had stopped their internal carnage, he could almost see a hole go through their back.

And yet, they talked. Sad as ever.

"I guess she wasn't meant to be happy. I guess I wasn't meant to be happy either... Or so I thought before I was summoned by you, Master. You know, you've treated me with more respect than she ever did. Maybe things aren't so bad."

The voice. The damn voice, his very own voice, spoke out. This time through his lips.

_"Saber of Red, with this final command seal I order you to tear out your vocal chords until you die."_

"I thought that, at least. I guess I'm being proved wrong, hahah... Mordred Pendragon just doesn't deserve to be happy. I'm accepting that fact now. I'm not mad at you, though. You're not to blame."

Their head turned while their hands grabbed their neck, claws sinking in as a mighty boom crackled around it, ravaging their whole throat in an excess burst of mana. Their voice was hoarse now. Not because their throat had been cut to shreds, but because two voices were mixed together. Mordred Pendragon and his daughter were both there, both tearing their throats out, both mixing their facial features, both mixing their voices, both speaking as two separate beings in the same body that was destroying itself because of him.

"I love you, dad."

"Mordred! MORDRED!"

Shishigou rose to sit with sweat covering his whole body, head almost colliding with the roof of the mausoleum. His fault for sleeping in a corner where the roof was especially low, hand against his chest as he felt his body heat up and then cool down. It was cold, yet he felt warmer than ever as he stood up, bare feet against coarse, cold stone as he stopped by an occupied altar.

Mordred slept peacefully on it, curled up like a cat. He was surprised that they hadn't woken up with his screams, but he was nevertheless grateful. It'd been hell to try and explain his nightmare to them. He'd rather not even think about it anymore, hand instinctively placing down on their cheek as he carefully stroked it before then moving his hand upwards to ruffle their hair. Mordred smiled a little in their sleep. He felt a painfully nostalgic twinge in his heart, smiling as he spoke in a quiet voice.

"... Good night, Mordred."

He turned on his feet and went back to his own slab, laying down on it as he closed his eyes. Shishigou Kairi would sleep peacefully after his nightmare, like with all the other nightmares he'd had.


End file.
